You can dance, or play the fiddle Talk in tongues or make up riddles Do anything you really wish to do, But don't, don't, don't Don't let Mom fall down below the middle. 'Cuz you will sure regret it if you do!

You can fly or drive, or keep on thumbing Sing or play, or stand around humming Play the banjo harpor play the blues. But don't, don't, don't Don't let Mom fall down below the middle 'Cuz if you do, we're comin' after you

Tell the doctor you hear voices Tell your gal you're out of choices Leave your home and look for something new. But when you talk about our Mummy Buster, don't start to act funny! We're got only one good word for you:

Straddle the fencepost, sleep on the griddle Break old headlights, holler "Kadiddle" But don't, don't, don't Don't let Mom fall down below the middle 'Cuz if you do, you'll surely come to rue, An' we're gonna come and getcha if you do.

I have found a solution. When people ask you what's going on, you claim ignorance, and wonder out loud how you ended in charge of X. This works wonderfully in slowing down the flow of more things to do. I still somehow seem to have been deemed responsible, despite my best efforts...

I'm waiting for 14641 , the next number in the Fibbonacci sequence. Especially as the one after, 15,101,051 is some way off.

Hah! You left out "potters"! The only time you'll hear "potter" and "responsible" used in the same sentence is in something like, "The potter was responsible for the building burning down." But what do you expect? Nobody who makes his living playing in mud and then playing with fire is going to get a lot of respect.

Scientists have discovered something new about exotic particles called solitons. Since the 1980s, scientists have known that solitons can carry an electrical charge when traveling through certain organic polymers. A new study now suggests that solitons have intricate internal structures.

Scientists may one day use this information to put the particles to work in molecular electronics and artificial muscles, said Ju Li, assistant professor of materials science and engineering at Ohio State University.

Li explained that each soliton is made up of an electron surrounded by other particles called phonons. Just as a photon is a particle of light energy, a phonon is a particle of vibrational energy.

The new study suggests that the electron inside a soliton can attain different energy states, just like the electron in a hydrogen atom.

"While we know that such internal electronic structures exist in all atoms, this is the first time anyone has shown that such structures exist in a soliton," Li said.

The soliton's quantum mechanical properties -- including these newly discovered energy states -- are important because they affect how the particle carries a charge through organic materials such as conducting polymers at the molecular level.

"These extra electronic states will have an effect -- we just don't know right now if it will be for better or worse," he said.

Li and his longtime collaborators from MIT published their findings in a recent issue of the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS).

I donno what sad s you've got, but the google ads on my screen are for "a musical journey to the Red Rock Folk Festival - and an ad for some singer whose name looks like it is the way you would spell a sneeze.

Even google is getting into the act, offering up a keg beer dispenser and the exotic "kegspediter system, A controlled process for the return of empty kegs to the brewery." Mom, can we get one of those?

How strange the night, oh wan the hour, That sees no bloom or bursting flower Here on the thread, which 'til this day Was ever thrown aloft, in play; And now, like some betrayed companion SInks to the lowest Mudcat canyon, And waves the clouds and sly farewell, As Mom approaches Drop Off Hell. Oh, no! Good friends, let i'ne'er be so! Your hearts and minds to Mother show, And turn your wits to work, and then, Loving and laughing raise her up again.

Worthy of McGonegal, I declare; How strange to find his talent rare And long thought happily, finally, dead, Raising again its cheerful head To haunt a later, different time With equal awkwardness of rhyme And stilted pace; enough, enough! The world's well-gifted with such stuff. But let it be, to each man's choosing To read what he finds most amusing. And let us also add, I wot, To not read what amuseth not.

A keg of spikes--brings to mind the wooden kegs that used to be along the railroad track at our remote lake cabin when I was a child. The rail started with the coal mining and logging in the area and became a regularly used trunk line for many years. We parked beside the road and walked down a path, across the railroad tracks, and into our back gate to the cabin on Lake Whatcom. As children we used to play around the tracks (only two trains in the morning and two in the evening, as I recall, so it was pretty safe). We'd pick up old spikes and take a barrel or two home if they weren't picked up after track work.

So, naming a beverage keg "Spike" might be a great blast from the past, but I'm afraid that consuming any of it would leave me fit to be tied.

Keg of what? Blasting powder? Nails? Root beer? Or...well, it certainly wouldn't be whiskey because everyone knows that the Legion is renowned as a leader in the Temperance Movement. One of its mottoes is "Down With The Liquor!" Another is "Away With Rum!" Another is "Throw Away The Corks!" After all, on the periodic fishing trips north to Alberta they drink Canada dry.

And lo, the eagle soard to bring us to 650 score Or as the moderns say, Brought us to 13 K. And from that height, the sparrow, In imitation of a fearsome arrow, His heart all filled with fun, Has brought 13.1.

Screw up your courage to the sticking point and stand downrange, an apple atop your tope, and I'll show you a quarrel! And I'll not timber your tope, but fletch good shooting to you, as you will either find an impaled malum or a dead male.

Oh, go to -- you are but stringing me along to feather your own nest. You may find your marbles as soon in a cat's eye as a bull's, sirrah, as your aim is quite unclear, and your string not fit even for a nockturn.

Your patina is showing, demonstrated by the fact that you are in the wrong quarry altogether. I query your querulous and quarrelsome (not to say quirky and quizzical) remark, and prithee sheathe thy quarrels, as I am no quarry of thine Elgin and rheumy eyes.

I wouild be interested, BWL, to know how you intend to pass the time until then. If the grapevine theory of parallel universes splitting off from instants in time has any merit, perhaps it will be no problem finding things to amuse your disincarnate merry self. You may find, about thirty-three hundred universes over, one in which we were born siblings and shared all the marbles.